Nevermore
by PhantomLilac
Summary: Two years after the events at the Opera House, Raoul deChangey dies of a illness, with one eerie message for his late wife: Find HIM. But to Christine, the HIM surely must be dead...or is he? After two years, can either of them accept each other, the feelings of grief, fear, and betrayal still festering in their hearts, or is there room for love? E/C
1. Chapter 1

_From one kiss_

_He was reborn_

_His soul had been lifted_

_From one kiss_

_He had let her go_

_The only love of his life_

_And from one kiss_

_His heart had shattered_

_Like a vanity mirror_

~.::.~

**Erik**

Everything was still, everything was still, as I had lain across my bed at night. For years, I had never really been one for sleeping, but now I wished for nothing but it.

I was an empty, hollow shell. I always was around this time of the year. Two years ago, at this very night, at this hour, she had walked away from me and into the arms of another man.

_Christine, Christine!_

I still remembered every detail of her, from her brilliant green eyes, to her chocolate curls, to her cream skin and rosy cheeks.

But never again could I call her my Christine.

She was gone, gone, gone, and I had to face the fact she was never coming back. No, no one would ever come back, except Madame Giry. She was still loyal to me...she still did my biddings and retrieved food and any other necessities for my needs, once a week.

Other than Madame Giry, I was very alone. I had no point in being alive, my soul was festering on hot coals, burning.

Christine...I wish she could have known, how much her kiss had changed me. One kiss, one kiss, I gave up music, I gave up her...

As I stared emotionlessly at the ceiling, a blatant, unexpected tear rolled from my eyelid. Why did her memories torment me so? Why did I, after nearly two years, still wait for her to find her way to my lair, and whisper to me words of love?

She never would, because she always will have her fop, Raoul DeChangey...

~.::.~

**Christine**

Raoul was dead.

The doctors could not tell what had been the matter, but it was certain, he was dead.

"Is...is there a will?" I whispered shakily.

A scrawled out paper was handed to me. I snatched it from the doctor, reading the weakly written sheet supposedly from Raoul.

_My Little Lotte,_

_My money, my home is yours. I know you do not love me as I love you, so find him. Be free._

_Raoul deChangney_

I stared at the almost meaningless words on the paper.

Find _him?_

For all I knew, _he_ was dead. It was _he_ who chose to send me away, it was _he_ who had been killed by the mob.

But why would Raoul ask me to find _him_? It was true, I had once loved _him_, but Raoul and I wed nonetheless. After a weeklong search, I never did find _him_.

So find him I would...if there was any of _him_ left.

:.::.:

**A/N: Sorry for the short first chapter, I promise the next ones will be much longer :)**

**R&R?**


	2. Chapter 2

_Depth of love_

_Is a fickly fate_

_Can two be doves_

_Or is it too late?_

~.::.~

**Erik**

I couldn't tell time by the sun, as I was condemned to a fate underground, much like that of a rat. I could only assume it was morning, so I arose from bed to eat whatever crumbs and morsels I could find in my ruined lair.

I slunk from my shadowy abode to notice Madame Giry had already arrived. Instead of explaining what items she had brought along and no doubt packed orderly away into cabinets-if there were any left unbroken after what the mob had done-she had a single envelope.

"Monsieur," she murmured, "Last night, Raoul deChagney passed away."

Struck down with shock, I snatched the papery case from her, tearing it open and pulling out a carefully clipped section of a newspaper.

_NOBLE RAOUL DECHAGNEY DEAD, WIDOWED WIFE MISSING_

_The Vicomte deChagney died of a sudden heart attack and fever just last night. Christine Daae DeChagney, his now former wife, was last seen retrieving money from her bank account before she vanished, nowhere to be seen. Foul play is suspected...-_

I placed the newsletter into my organ only feet away, collapsing into my seat, my arms banging into the keys and making a horrible loud trill from the instrument.

"She's going to be looking for you, Monsieur," Madame Giry interrupted my anguished thoughts.

"No she won't!" I vainly cried, burying my forehead into my elbows.

"Of course she will. I guarantee you, she is in contact with The Persian."

My teeth ground. Nadir Khan...of course she would think to ask him, and the stubborn Daroga would send her right to me...

Christine wasn't smart enough to evade police if they already caught her withdrawing cash from some measly bank. But of course, Nadir would help her, no doubt.

I dramatically slammed my hand against the organ, letting out another loud boom of a note, making Madame Giry cringe.

"Madame, I have a new task for you. Make sure Miss Daae does _not_ find her way down here."

Madame Giry scrunched her nose.

"Monsieur, do you think that is wise? Would you not rather help her? Is there any love for her left in your heart?" she asked defiantly.

"No, no, Madame, you have it all wrong," I groaned, "I do find myself fond of Chri...ah, _Miss Daae_, but how can you say she's not coming just to hide? She clearly does not return the affections."

Madame Giry shook her head, her wrinkles deepening on her forehead. She crossed her frail arms, with a short bob of her head.

"I will try my best to keep her away if that is your wish, but think about it Monsieur. Christine is practically waltzing into your arms."

As she left, my eyes wandered to the sheet music scattered across the top of the organ I had rested myself against.

It had been a very long time since I had touched my artwork, my masterpieces, but now I longed to hear it flow, like the rhythm of a beating heart.

My fingers flowed against the keys, as I poured my despair and heartbreak into something for the first time. Oh, my organ, how it understood me so! How it made me forget my loneliness, if only for a while...

After hours and hours of nothing but pounding my soul into this music, I tiredly stumbled to a small recliner, one of my few furniture pieces unharmed by the mob years ago.

Flopping upon the velvet-lined chair, my eyelids hit a close, my body festering with grief and emotion as I came to a startling remembrance: Christine Daae was going to come, and it wasn't because she loved me. No, it was to escape whatever mistakes the fop put her in.

Sleep, how I had learned to crave, was not befalling me.

No, what I heard, alerting me, was the swishy sound of water from somewhere not too far away. I jolted up from where I sat. Footsteps, through my shallow abyss of a lake?

There were more...it became louder and louder, until I could see a lantern light glowing...

I tucked myself in a ball, rocking back and forth madly. I didn't want whoever it was to be here...fortunately, they would eventually realize there is a gate blocking entrance, and if I were quiet enough, they would leave on their own, seemingly no living person contained.

I placed a hand to my heart feebly, checking to see if it was still beating as I nervously swerved like a fish still, anxiety kicking.

_Erik, be silent, be good, then no one can come in and hurt you, not like how the mob had...not like how the mob had tried to kill you, how they took their hands, clubs, or whatever they had found and beat you until you had to pretend you were dead for them to leave,_ I thought_, conceal yourself...don't make a sound..._

~.::.~

**A/N: Um...yay, Erik is so excited that Christine is coming! Yeah, no, he totally had a mental breakdown. Who wants to be the first in line to give him a hug?**

**Please R&R! Thanks ^.^**


	3. Chapter 3

_He knew a girl_

_With chocolate curls_

_Her eyes were a radiant green._

_Once she ran_

_No love again_

_Sometimes jewels have a plastic sheen._

~.::.~

**Christine**

As my feet got soaked from our slushing through the water, I turned to look up at Monsieur Khan, whose lantern swung back and forth in his grip, causing the light to flicker.

"Monsieur Khan, is this exactly the wisest decision? Are you sure he's even there?" I asked solemnly.

He gave me a slight nod.

"Yes, this will do Erik much good, trust me. If there's one thing Erik needs, is some company. He lies around and does nothing, not even play music. Believe me, he has nowhere else to go to, he's definitely here."

I frowned, my lower lip puckering to a pout. Poor Erik, I couldn't imagine how he must be without music... As I never remembered a day he wasn't devoted to the art of it.

As we neared the signature black gate, I could clearly see how ravaged and destroyed the lair appeared.

Several items were scorched, thrown about, and broken, few things generally looked the same.

"Erik! Open up!" Nadir called. No response. Nadir grunted, shaking the bars a bit.

"Not amusing, Erik, open up please!"

It was very quiet, until finally from the darkness, I saw a glint of white.

I stiffened as Erik surfaced from the shadows. He looked more horrendous than before...he was so pale his skin appeared white, his eyes surrounded in miserable dark circles, and he was unbearably thin.

He looked from me, to Nadir, before he crossed his arms, scowling.

"Give me one good reason, Khan. This is the last straw!" he snarled back.

"If you deny Miss Daae help, where will she go to? Would you rather she be arrested, falsely charged with murder, and then put to the gallows?"

I swallowed hard, feeling fear fester in the bottom of my stomach. Nadir sadly was correct. Someone would catch me if I tried to leave the country...someone would catch me if I roamed about Paris. Everyone would believe I had poisoned Raoul, and argue I could, but to the world I was a murderer.

Erik's eyes flitted about, and his tense shoulders drooped in a sad sort of notion. He moved in a sagging manner to the gate lever, pulling it open. I let go of the bar I had been holding as the gate creaked up and out of sight.

Tiptoeing through the water, I finally made it to the sandy shore of the dark lair, drinking in all the destruction to Erik's once beautiful home. It was ruined...so terribly ruined.

"Did...did the mob do this?" I whispered in a trembly voice.

We did not meet eyes, for when he noticed my nervous gaze, he shyly looked away, and I saw bitter grief in his posture, one that made my skin crawl with regret.

"Yes," he choked, "the mob destroyed almost everything."

I bit my lip before responding.

"Your home once was so wonderful. I'm sorry."

He straightened up, meeting Nadir's eye, before frowning.

"Daroga, you are dismissed." he growled.

Nadir's brow furrowed.

"Erik, promise no harm will come to Miss Daae." Nadir chastised.

Outrage and offense sparked within Erik, but before he could rebuke the argument, I interrupted.

"And none will come between either of us. Thank you for your help, Monsieur Khan, and I bid you a good night."

With that, Nadir bid me a "you're welcome" and was off.

Erik and I were alone.

In the same room.

Not a word escaped either of our lips. I was afraid, that given I did speak, I would set him off into a rage, but I was also afraid, would I not speak, I would hurt him even more.

"Why did you come back?" Erik broke the silence after several passing minutes, his voice filled with torment.

"You're the only friend I have now that the world thinks I killed Raoul," I responded honestly.

"Madame, I have no intentions of leaving you for death, if that is what you believe," Erik murmured shakily, "but I will _not_ be used as a Plan B because the fop died and laid the blame on you."

With that, I was left wordless. He was right. He had been a Plan B, but I myself had no intentions of hurting him...I had thought, I had thought maybe...maybe I could love him, were something to fail between Raoul and I. My marriage to Raoul had not been a blissful one.

I was certain Raoul had been distressed when I didn't bear him a child after two years of trying. He had been distressed because I had asked about the fate of the Opera House, more specifically of my fallen Angel of Music, when I had believed Erik dead. And most of all, Raoul knew in his heart, that what we had was not love. What we had was social status, pompous parties, and boisterous wealth...that was not the life for me, and I had regretted it all.

Erik studied me down, before he shook his head.

"You know where your bedroom is. Goodnight, Miss Daae."

And he left towards another room, my hope shattering. Erik didn't care...but why should he? Why should he when all I did was take heart, rip it from his chest and stomp on it?

Tears hitting my own eyes, I slowly crept to the bedroom, finding it was the only room nothing was harmed. The bed was still neatly dusted off, covers perfectly aligned with the pillows. The swan bed looked perfectly safe, and the cabinets were still lined with all sorts of clothing.

Changing into a nightgown, I curled up into the covers, silently weeping. Why couldn't I do anything right? Why did everyone seem to turn against me...even the closest thing to a friend I had, my Angel of Music, was shaming and pitying me.

Once upon a time, I had been Little Lotte, then I was Madame deChagney, and now, I was nobody. Nobody but Christine Daae, a widow trapped underground with a hollow shell of a man she had once loved, who had died on the inside of his own heartbreak.

Even when I knew I was safe, I was alone. So very alone.

~.::.~

**A/N: Well that turned out well... Looks like Christine is ALONE IN THE UNIVERSE (sorry I was in Seussical last year as Gertrude McFuzz so I had to make that reference)**

**R&R please! Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

_When night met day_

_The dark mingled with light_

_They decided to stay_

_And love soared a height._

~.::.~

**Erik**

Dully I sat at the organ, dusting off the music stand and placing an older work of mine upon it.

"When do you suppose Christine will awaken?" Meg's voice chirped from behind me.

I had invited Meg to come and tend to Christine for a few times a week, knowing they were best friends, and that it would keep the girl from interrupting my thoughts...anything to distract myself from Christine I was willing to agree upon.

And keep Christine from distracting me.

"I don't know, and really don't care," I sharply responded. She shuffled her way to a seat beside me, taking the music from off the stand and reading the title.

"'Heartbeat', interesting title. Do you still like Christine?" Meg continued.

Oh, now she was pushing my buttons! I took the papers back from her, snorting in disgust.

"I do not like Christine, I find it a nuisance that the girl dare return."

Meg shook her head, pursing her light coral lips together in a pout.

"For the Phantom of the Opera, monsieur, you are a very bad liar." Meg retorted.

As she strutted away, Christine appeared in her doorway, and I was shocked at her appearance.

Even yesterday evening, she had been a picture of grace and serenity, but now she looked ruined. Her eyes were dark and shadowed out, cheeks flushed and damp from tears, and her chocolate curls a mess amongst her nightgown.

"Good morning, Christine!" Meg excitedly squealed, but neither Christine or I reacted as we blankly stared at each other.

The girl dully looked from left to right, before finally speaking.

"Where...what...I just had the most awful dream..." Christine slurred, looking over to Meg, whose face filled with concern.

"Are you alright?" the blonde girl murmured, pressing the back of her hand to Christine's forehead.

"Oh dear," Meg yelped, making me jolt in startle, "Christine you are running a fever!"

I rolled my eyes. Of course she was sick, after all her crying and tossing and turning last night, I hardly slept myself with her boisterous, irrational outbursts.

"I'm fine, Meg..." Christine growled back as her friend fussed over her.

I turned, pulling myself away from my former location by organ and instead to the lone violin case propped against a half destroyed cabinet.

Carefully, I lifted the preserved instrument and its respective bow from the poorly held leather casing, and took a seat on the floor.

I drowned out the sounds of the ladies' bickering. I instead forced myself into a happy place, where everything was just music. There was no Christine, Raoul, Meg, or anybody but myself, and the violin.

Drawing in a deep breath, I pressed my forefinger onto the bridge, trusting my skills as a musician, and pulled the bow across the strings.

~.::.~

**Christine**

I was not ill.

I would not even accept a word of that. I was not ill, I was merely tired...

Tired, and haunted...

It had been true, that I had horrible nightmares the night before.

My mind had been viciously ensnared in a torrent of every emotion at once. But Raoul's face kept appearing in my dreams, and his brother, Philippe deChagney...

I had a rocky relationship with the former Comte Philippe deChagney. I never really knew him well, but I just knew, in my heart, that he was jealous of Raoul and I, and nonetheless would've rather had us both die.

In fact, I was certain it was he who had accused me of Raoul's "murder." It was he who wanted the money and the property, for Philippe had never married, and thus his title was forfeited when I had wed Raoul. It was natural of him to seek revenge, I presumed.

But my dreams had been plagued with a horrifying, fantastical image of him slaughtering Erik before me with blade, then turning and ramming it into my abdomen. How I had cried in between bouts of consciousness! I couldn't get such an ugly, bizarre picture out of my mind...

This crying had made me grow uneasy and hot, and when I reawakened in the morning, Meg had been right there to badger me.

I didn't question why she had been there, she just was there. It was obvious Erik had sent for her specifically for me, and it was clear as to his reasonings: he was trying to push me away from him.

I for one did not appreciate his reclusions. I did want to socialize with my Angel of Music, I wanted him to return my friendly demeanors.

And he was there, playing the violin.

I pulled away from Meg and slowly wandered in Erik's direction, tiredly stumbling to a halt a yard away, before I collapsed onto my bum and dazedly listened to his melodic melodies. He didn't seem to notice I was even there.

Erik had traveled far away, onto some distant land where he was free, where nothing was prejudiced to his abhorrent face. His eyelids were faintly closed as he rocked in a fashion that of a grand composer, naturally swerving with the bow.

His eyes finally reposed as he met me once more, and neither of us spoke a word. He pulled to a stop, before changing his posture and beginning to play another tune, giving me a sort of nod.

Although I was still exhausted from sleepless week from before, I parted my lips.

For the first time in two years,

I sang with my Angel of Music.

And neither of us regretted it.

~.::.~

**A/N: Seems like they're sort of-kind of-warming up to each other, huh? More coming soon. :-)**

**Please R&R! I do enjoy all of your lovely comments ^.^**


	5. Chapter 5

_Prowling eyes_

_Deafening guise_

_Neither found within_

_Smile of rose_

_Dance in prose_

_Such display begins_

~.::.~

**Erik**

Sleep did not become of me that night.

My eyes lulled half asleep at the cave ceiling above me. I was uncomfortable with the events of earlier.

I lusted for more, more of Christine's singing...I wanted her to sing and never stop.

How selfish of me.

I bit my lip, cursing myself for becoming intoxicated and foiled by the soprano again.

_She doesn't want me_, I was bitterly reminded, _and she never will. She loves the stupid fop more than I._

My ears were alerted by an urgent shuffling sound. I fluttered my eyelids shut, trying to drown out the annoying noise, before someone's hand shook my shoulder.

"Erik, wake up!" Meg whispered haughtily. I groaned, shifting up and glaring at the petite girl who had invaded my bedroom.

"What!?" I grunted irritably, but then I settled, seeing her panicked look on her face.

"Christine sleepwalked into the lake...she could _drown_, please-"

Christine sleepwalked? I had never heard of such a thing from Christine, that was for certain. I arose with a yawn, pushing my way out towards the carved hallway and out towards the vast, glassy lake.

Meg was right. Christine was out in the lake, and I wondered how subconscious she truly was as her hands violently beat against the gate door, and she deliriously cried out curses.

"Christine?" I called, but the brunette girl did not respond, merely continued to sob uncontrollably.

It could not possibly be long before she slipped back into sleep, and I feared if she collapsed into the dark waters, I would not find her before she drowned herself.

Carefully, I waded out into the freezing water, once again cursing the fact the girl was even here in the first place, before making my way towards her.

In one quick move, I grabbed her wrists to keep her from hurting herself, and she violently struggled against me.

"Let me go, Philippe...let me go!" she howled, ramming herself back and forth in a wildly out of control manner.

"Christine, there is no Philippe here. Wake up!" I snapped. Suddenly, everything was silent, and I feared she had fallen back asleep.

Christine whirled to face me, and erupted into tears, sobbing into my chest.

"I'm sorry, Erik, I'm sorry," Christine wailed between sniffles. For a moment, I felt bitter, knowing this was the most intimate moment I would share with the girl for a long while, before I tenderly scooped her into my arms, lifting her above the water as I waded back towards shore.

I did not place her back out of my arms until I left her to her bedroom. She shivered as I gently placed her onto her bed, and pulled the covers up for her shivering neck.

As I turned to leave, she grabbed my wrist.

"When...when I used to have nightmares, my father sang for me." she weakly whimpered.

I returned facing her, shaking my head mournfully.

"I do not sing anymore Christine. You will have to go without, or sing yourself to sleep."

Her hands tugged on my wrist now, guiding me to a seat at her bedside, her green eyes now wide open.

"Please, please...I miss hearing you sing."

I knew there was no way I could win against her pleas, and inwardly I knew it would kill me to disappoint her. I entwined my hand with hers, to calm her from her previous nightmares, and just as Christine had earlier, I sang a soothing lullaby.

I did not leave my post, no matter how tired I grew, watching over her even when she stirred.

_And he'd always be there, singing songs in her head..._


	6. Chapter 6

_Hush, said the raven_

_Who perched atop the tree_

_Come to me, my precious_

_Cometh here to thee..._

~.::.~

**Christine**

My eyes blinked from their lulling, drowsy close when dead silence hit my ears.

He was gone.

I jolted up in bed, suddenly afraid. Where had he gone to? Hadn't he just been there? How long had he disappeared?

"Erik? Meg?" I called in to the darkness. Neither responded.

Of course Meg was gone. She was due to leave early in the morning today, and she knew her way in and out herself. I could understand her short noticed departure, but Erik...

Sharply turning to the right from the exit of my bedroom, I could only realize and take notice that the gate was pulled all the way up. Had Erik left me down here, and forgotten to close the exit behind me?

Anxiety and adrenaline kicked in. I hated the darkness down here, and the night-dim cavern my Angel called home made me long for light. But if I left for the light, if only for seconds, I could risk being caught, and then I could die...

But no, what if Erik was in trouble?

I hurried away to Erik's bedroom, realizing my nightgown and no shoes would surely get wet if I frocked about the lake in search of him.

As I dashed to the dark brown, wooden wardrobe, I noticed mostly everything he had was either black, white, or gray.

How creative of him, I thought, as I threw my nightgown off and grabbed a loose fitting white dress shirt, praying when if he discovered I borrowed his clothing he would not throw a tantrum.

I tightly bound the black pants with a belt, tucking the shirt into my waist, before reaching for a pair of leather boots, easily sliding them onto my feet. Bending over, I grunted as I tucked the cuffs of the pants into the boots, now my outfit had been completed.

I shut the heavy wardrobe tight, before rushing out of the bedroom and right into the somewhat shallow lake. Fortunately the water had only reached to my ankles, not soaking anything because of the boots.

As I trudged on, finally passing the opened gate, I looked back over my shoulder with a gulp, wondering whether or not this would be my last time I would see Erik's lair, or Erik himself.

I was met with shadows only minutes into my journey. I felt foolish for not bringing along a candle, but it wasn't impossibly unnavigable.

Every little step was careful, for I was aware of the traps Erik had previously set before...that other time.

After God knows how long of wandering aimlessly through the narrow passageways, I found a faintly glowing light from the top of a staircase. At last, something manmade! I clambered my way to the top, finally seeing Erik, cloaked, watching intently through something.

"Erik! I was worried sick and-"

He whirled around, cutting me off by putting his hand over my mouth and pulling me close to him.

He didn't answer me, instead forcibly pulled me along into the shadows once more. My nose scrunched up in disgust by his rude behavior...how dare he grab me in such a manner!

Erik let go once we were a bit away from the spot, and I narrowed my eyes.

"What was that for?" I spat furiously, crossing my arms. He didn't budge in the least towards sympathy.

"You would've given my position away, were you not awakened by the sound of hammers as I?" he confusingly asked.

I shook my head.

"...hammers?"

"Christine, there are workers here, they are repairing the Opera House." Erik growled.

His eyebrows raised when it finally hit me what he was trying to say.

Our safety was in danger, now that there were construction men, fixing every burnt and broken corner of the once fine performing arts center.

Without another word, Erik took my hand, whisking me away to a balcony. I was not sure how he had gotten us there so quickly, but then I remembered, he was the Phantom of the Opera, of course he knew his way around.

We were behind a black veil, in one of the boxes. I knew this was probably the box for the king or queen, not his infamous Box Five, for the black veil was a one-way view so the audience could not see the rulers.

Much like my former dressing room mirror.

He gestured downwards at a man inspecting the work. I noticed beside this newcomer were the managers Andre and Firman, busily chatting.

Their backs were turned but I could recognize the two managers immediately, but Erik seemed fixated on the patron.

"What's so special about the patron?" I whispered.

"Wait for him to turn around." Erik snarled, flexing his hands as if he were waiting to snatch a punjab lasso. His fierceness was frightening to me, and I veered uncomfortably at his side.

Then the man refocused, turning into plain sight.

It was Philippe.

I gagged, nausea sweeping in.

He was here, because he suspected I was hidden away here. He was funding the repairs, to find his way down to my safe haven...and then he'd kill Erik and I, all of this was certain...

My mind reeled in anger, but then the dizziness swept in, and I stumbled backwards, only to be caught by Erik.

Erik must've noticed I was nearly about to faint, for just like the night before, he swept me up, bridal style, and suddenly I was engulfed in the darkness of the underground, trembling nervously in his grip.

When we returned to the lair, he set me down gently on his couch, before rushing back to shut the gate.

I dizzily slumped against the cushions, exhaustion sweeping over me, as Erik returned, removing his cape and wrapping it around my suddenly weak body.

"I'm sorry," he murmured sincerely, "I shouldn't have pressed all of this on you so suddenly. I'm assuming you haven't eaten yet?"

"No, when I realized you were gone, I was too scared someone had killed you to think about my needs," I rasped.

I saw something wet drip down his face. Oh, was Erik crying?

"Erik?"

He wiped his face with his fingertips, turning away.

"I had best get you something to eat before you get anymore ill."

I swallowed.

"Thank you," I added. Once more our eyes met, and I could see some sort of emotion in his gaze, one filled with deep longing and lingering grief, before he vanished again.

But this time, I knew he was going to come back. My Angel of Music was never going to leave me, from that one look, I knew exactly what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

I trembled at the thought...why would he...after all I had done cruelly to him? Leaving him down here to rot two years ago meant, surely, I had to be wrong. Yet I knew I wasn't.

_Erik was in love with me._

~.::.~

**A/N: Christine finally gained some knowledge, hasn't she? Will she fall for Erik too? :-)**

**Sorry about the late update, I lost some inspiration in this story and took a short hiatus so I could get off writer's block and spring back into creativity! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

_Everything seemed blurry_

_Confusing_

_And for the most part_

_Dull_

_Then you stepped_

_Into my door_

_My broken heart was made_

_Whole_

~.::.~

**Erik**

Christine was in my home.

Only two days ago had she arrived, and she had captured my heart again on a fishing hook.

But I could not show it, for part of my heart was hurt, so very hurt, and frightened, and lonely.

I placed a little plate of toast at the little table feet away from her, which I scooted closer so that she would not require much movement.

Faintly, I pressed my fingertips across her forehead. Unlike the night before night, she was not running a fever, and to that I had been grateful.

"Angel, please sit with me." she said. Knowing if I objected, it would turn into some kind of argument, I pulled myself up a recliner, and took a gentle seat.

"May I ask why you desire my company?" I asked a bit stubbornly. I wanted to go, build myself some new, venomous traps to ensnare any snooping workers, especially a certain Comte...

"I get lonely on my own. You're my only company."

I inwardly smiled, she wanted my company...she actually liked when I am near her, but then, I swallowed hard, asking a painful question.

"Do you miss your husband?"

It came out as somewhat of a low, almost whispery question.

Christine set her finished plate of toast down, and bowed her head sadly.

"Will you not hate me for my response? I have never told anyone this, so please?" she murmured.

I stiffened, anticipating her answer. I nodded hesitantly. Was she going to tell me about how wonderful their fairytale wedding had been, and how I wasn't there to see? I swallowed as she stared me in the eye, and all I saw was this intense regret.

"Raoul and I's love died after the first year, that I am certain of. I tried to bear him a child, but every time we tried, I failed, and he stopped caring about me, he knew I was as distraught as he was, but we didn't divorce for the sake of me, because what would happen if a former Vicomtess tried to find work, the whole public knowing I had been a failure in marriage? He knew I was bored, lonely, and I didn't like the life I married into. That is why I think Raoul sent me to you, to keep me from loneliness." she explained.

Her words hurt, but I dared not show it, for her sake. I felt my eyes burning as I fought away tears...she and Raoul had not loved each other, but she chose him! She chose him, and broke both the Vicomte's and I's hearts. Killed two birds with one stone, Christine had, but then something in my heart burst.

Was Christine loving me back? Why would she tell me this information otherwise, knowing it would no doubt have angered me in any other situation?

"I'm sorry." I apologized again, this feeling of dread and guilt filling me.

Here I was, thinking selfishly again, thinking Christine could have room in her beautiful heart to love me. Why would she ever want to love such a hideous, marred corpse such as I? I was merely a fool to believe otherwise, that an innocent angel such as her could ever want me.

"Don't apologize, Erik, for what isn't your fault," Christine stammered.

I was speechless. Wasn't my fault? How was none of this my fault?

"...Christine-"

"Please don't. Erik, it isn't your fault. The world thinks I murdered Raoul right now, not because of you, but because Philippe framed me."

Her last few words came out almost silent, and suddenly she began to sob. I froze to the spot.

"I promise you, Christine, I will avenge against his foolish deceit, and the last thing he shall lay eyes upon is eternal damnation." I growled angrily.

"Erik, no. promise me that you will never go to the surface without me. I would not be able to bear it if you were captured. If the only way to rid of Philippe is being the Phantom of the Opera, there is only one term upon which I will agree." she replied determinedly, snuffing up her tears.

"And what might that term be? Christine, if I became the Phantom again and you followed me about, people would recognize our faces if bystanders caught a glimpse. I truly want to terrify the Comte."

Then this maddened smirk spread across her face, this little grin that sent shivers up my spine. I had never seen her do such a wicked smile that had caused me to feel uncomfortable.

"Isn't it easy, Erik," she mused, "the answer is simple. Make me a mask."

.::.

**A/N: Well, that went well...so we have a Phantomess of the Opera as well! Muahaha**

**Hope you enjoyed my little plot twist there...Please read & review~ happy writings!**


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